


The Rime of the Ancient Troubadour

by HeartandCourage



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 12:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11623404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartandCourage/pseuds/HeartandCourage
Summary: Destiny is a cruel mistress, a sadist really. Why else would she send a cursed bard Merlin's way?





	The Rime of the Ancient Troubadour

“Very well bard, tell us a true history,” Arthur laughed. Arthur wasn’t taking the woman seriously, this Merlin knew. The claim that she above all other bards sang truth tickled Arthur’s fancy. Respectable women were not story tellers and decent bards were always men. Arthur likely thought her some harlot reformed.

But she left a sour feeling in Merlin's stomach. Evidently he was worked up enough for Gwaine to notice. He elbowed Merlin in the ribs and joked about the lack of women in Merlin’s life. The other knights joined in. Arthur’s eyes overflowed with mirth. Merlin supposed he should have acknowledged all of this, cracked a smile at least but his skin jumped with danger.

The woman, the bard, she looked innocuous enough. Merlin had gotten better at feeling magic. She was ordinary, human, but still, her eyes, she looked at Merlin as if she knew him. Really and truly. And Merlin got the impression that when she said she’d tell the true story, she really would.

The lot of them were in a tavern near the border of Cendred’s kingdom. Rumors of a creature that snatched children from their beds turned out to be unsubstantiated and the whole quest turned into something of a vacation for the knights and their king. Merlin of course did not get a vacation, not the least of which because the ‘unsubstantiated’ creature was an immortal ghost-like thing that fed off of the potential of children’s life squandered. It had been a bloody terror trying to defeat the thing and then getting the children back! Please! Merlin had ran himself ragged. Honestly, it worked out for the best that the death of an immortal creature meant no one remembered it, but Merlin was tired and he didn’t need some odd woman in a tavern telling Arthur ‘the truth’.

_“At least don’t include names would you?”_ It was something of a last ditch effort and Merlin was pleasantly surprised when the bard responded. Of course that relieved feeling was violently murdered when he realized the content of said response.

_“It is my sacred duty to tell the truth Lord Emrys.”_

_“And why,”_ Merlin thought sullenly. _“Is that?”_

_“Cursed am I, by the ancient one, to wander the Albion chronicling its start and finish.”_

“Oh come off it Merlin, it’s merely a joke,” Arthur clapped him on the back.

“Right,” because my life is one big long joke, Merlin thought.

A high clear note drew Merlin’s attention and he listened in rapt horror as she began, “Albion, stolen, maligned by the tyrannical warlord who coveted the wife of another. Igr…”  
In desperation Merlin grabbed his tankard and threw its contents on the bard who spluttered and nearly dropped her lute.

“Merlin!” Arthur exclaimed sounding both shocked and disappointed like a father discovering some minor treachery of his son. Arthur leaped forward and was helping the bard dry off with his cape. The way he held his shoulders had Merlin preparing for a reprimand.

Gwaine was staring at him, as if trying to fathom him out. “I…,” Merlin searched around for some excuse. “I tripped.”

This caused Gwaine to frown and raising his own tankard to his lips he muttered, “No you didn’t.”

Meanwhile, Arthur apologized profusely to the bard. “I am very sorry for my servant ma’am he is not right in the head. Please grace us with your story.”

“Certainly King Arthur,” the bard curtseyed and adjusted her lute.

“And Merlin,” Arthur rebuked. “If you know what is best for you, you’ll make yourself scarce and attend to the horses.”

“Yes sire,” Merlin jumped to attention and nearly fell over his own feet in exiting the tavern. As it was, Merlin had no idea what was best for him and noticing a high window on the side of the tavern began to look for a way to get near it.

It was in the somewhat compromising position standing atop his horse, who really was being wonderfully cooperative all things considered, that the taverns stable hand found him. The young boy looked from his bucket of oats to the strange man standing atop a moving horse and opened his mouth as if to yell at Merlin but struggling with it closed it and scratched his head. “Be a good lad and don’t tell anyone of this yeah?” Merlin fumbled about his pocket before finding two gold coins and tossing them to the boy who caught them, looked again from his oats to Merlin and eventually shrugging wandered back over toward the nearby stables.

Grumbling Merlin stood upon his tiptoes and looked through the window. “Alright,” getting a clear view of the bard Merlin, eyes turning gold, said, _“Siarad nonsens, os gwelwch yn dda”_. To his relief the bard stopped playing her lute and appeared to be testing her speech. Not to mention the knights appeared slightly confused.

Satisfied with himself Merlin attempted to get off the horse in a dignified manner. Things rarely go to Merlin’s plans however and instead he fell off the thing in a heap. Thus Arthur found him on the ground as his startled horse barreled through the countryside. “For god sake’s get up Merlin.”

“Aye, Sire…” but Merlin couldn’t seem to get his legs to cooperate with his brain.

Muttering about drunken manservants Arthur lent a hand and pulled Merlin to his feet. “Thanks,” Merlin said as he dusted himself off.

Arthur simply rolled his eyes, “honestly with as often as you’re at the tavern you’d think you’d hold your drink better,” at that Arthur went to help Elyan and Leon track down Merlin’s wayward horse.

Gwaine who still held his own drink raised an eyebrow at Merlin. “You’re never in the tavern little bird.”

Merlin frowned and glanced over at Arthur’s retreating figure. “Yes, well, I think Arthur’s mistaken.”

“Evidently,” but Gwaine still had a suspicious air about him even as Merlin went to get the other’s horses ready.

When he fell asleep on his horse behind the others it was Gwaine who woke him. “Why so tired?”

Merlin simply shrugged but couldn’t help a yawn. “Still a little drunk.”

“Oh bollocks with that excuse,” and Merlin jumped startled at Gwaine’s vehemence. His horse tensed as well. As Merlin leaned down and pet its neck Gwaine continued. “Half your tankard ended up on that bard. Which brings me to that actually! Care to explain Merlin?”

“Explain what?”

“Why you behaved like someone possessed? So help me Merlin if you say you were drunk one more time…”

Merlin’s mind raced. “Did you...Did you listen to what she was saying perchance?”

Gwaine shook his head, “unlike you, I actually was drunk.”

“Right,” Merlin tried not to let Gwaine’s slightly bitter tone cause him too much anxiety. “Well if you had listened you’d realized she was about to tell Arthur a rather treasonous story that would result in her getting cut in half.”

“How so?”

“You think I want to get cut in half,” Merlin asked incredulously.

“Like I’d kill you, or tell Arthur either.”

Merlin looked over at the man who seemed to have cheered considerably now that Merlin had disclosed his half truth. Gwaine had been to every region of Camelot and further in his hedonistic pursuit of pleasure. Merlin wondered what Gwaine would make of his secret. He’d probably react in much the same manner as Lancelot. In all truth the thought of telling him was tempting. But Lancelot’s knowledge had not ended well for the virtuous knight. And Gwaine didn't’ deserve such a fate.

“It concerned some not so flattering stories about his father. ‘Tyrannical warlord’? Coveting another’s wife? Igraine was married to King Gorlois prior to Uther. And Uther took Camelot by force.” Merlin whispered.

“Truly?” Gwaine seemed surprised. Like Merlin he had grown up outside of the boundary of Camelot. Little whispers would not have reached him. “How do you know this?”

“Geoffrey talks. He’s a lonely man.”

Gwaine frowned, deep in thought. “Magic was legal then? Gorlois had a court sorcerer?”

A shiver ran down Merlin’s spine. “Yes,” he nodded.

“Bizarre,” Gwaine shook his head. “I wonder how Uther could have defeated Gorlois if the man had a sorcerer.”

“Uther did too.”

Gwaine again looked surprised. And Merlin with a sarcastic lilt said “ I’m sure the sorcerers are ever so pleased to have helped.”

“You surprise me Merlin,” Gwaine was looking at him with a light behind his eyes. Something like respect. It filled Merlin with a sense of dread. Rather than alleviate a problem, Merlin wonders if he’s exacerbated it.

**Author's Note:**

> Merlin's spell is in Welsh and he's directing the bard to "talk nonsense, please". I added the please because I thought Merlin would be the sort to feel a little bad about forcing someone to talk gibberish.  
> Thanks for reading!


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